


try it if it feels nice

by pxint



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drug Use, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 07:08:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18068888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pxint/pseuds/pxint
Summary: “You wanna?”He does — he wants to.





	try it if it feels nice

**Author's Note:**

> hello! disclaimer: drugs are bad this fic involves two people taking unprescribed adhd meds which is illegal and risky and u shouldn’t do it, have a nice day \o/
> 
> title from "drugs you should try it" by travis scott

one;

The ceiling of his dorm room is bland and boring. It’s nothing to look at, but Nico’s sprawled out on his bed with nothing more to do than watch and listen and feel just what it feels like to move overseas to a completely new country. He’s still waiting for the homesickness to kick in, for something to hit him deep in the gut and knock him right off guard. But. All he can do is wait. So, he waits. For a while, actually.

And, “Hey, I’m Nolan,” startles the silence in the room. Nico doesn’t jump exactly, but it’s a near thing with the sharp shiver he feels in his shoulders.

It’s another boy, his roommate presumably, and he looks around Nico’s age. He’s got these icy eyes and hair that kisses his neck underneath his snapback, everything about him seems cool. Laid back. Nico offers up the smallest smile he can manage. 

“Hi, uh, Nico,” he says, never really the best at introductions, but Nolan takes it with a friendly nod. 

“Nice to meet you,” Nolan says, maybe anywhere else it would feel weirdly formal, but there’s something in the smile turning up his lips that takes the edge off. And just how quickly he directs his attention to his bag, letting it slump down on his bed as he gets his things in order.

“Yeah, you too,” Nico says, and everything suddenly feels a lot more awkward rolling off his tongue. The words feeling heavy and vowels just a little harder to get out, but Nico can set his eyes back on the ceiling. So it’s what he does. He watches the bland boring ceiling, and Nolan fills in the silence with small talk. It’s a lot better that way, he finds.

-

two;

Nico knows for sure when he’s flipping through the pages of a textbook. He _knows_ because he tips his eyes up and when he glances at Nolan, his gaze immediately darts away. There’s pink high on his cheeks from across the room, where there’s a laptop perched on his lap and a book opened up to his side. He’s always like that. Pink cheeks, head out of the game, homework scattered across his bed, but. 

Nico looks back at his textbook, where the pages are chock full of words that seem to blur together when he tries to read them. His eyes uselessly scan the information that seems to no less bounce off his head and every single thought he has just goes back to Nolan. 

They’re nothing more than friends, and not for all that long either. A mere month maybe, but Nico’s face burns up at the idea of anything else and he holds the corners of his textbook just a little tighter.

The material is hard beneath his fingers, just short of uncomfortable, but it’s the only thing that gets him to at least slightly remove his head from just what he thinks could be happening. When he looks at Nolan and Nolan looks away, when Nolan catches _him_ looking and pretends like it’s nothing. 

Neither of them utter a word and Nico has never felt more nerves in the quiet of a dorm room.

-

three;

Nico catches Nolan in the early morning sometimes, before he rushes to class. Nolan catches Nico in the afternoon, when he’s just coming back in from a day of work and lectures. They keep each other company through the evening, and the nights are full of pleasant silence that fades to the rush of morning once again. 

It’s a cycle that spirals and spirals, beginning when the room is drenched in the soft pinks of sunrise and hushed when blinds are drawn shut from the moonlight.

The thing is: despite everything on his plate, despite the routine, despite the things Nico should be thinking about, all his thoughts keep trailing back to is Nolan’s drowsy smile in the morning. Or the way he tucks his mess of hair under a hat while ducking out of the room. Or how he seems to be enough of a morning person to contently talk to Nico while getting ready to head out.

And then Nico will think about seeing Nolan again, when he’s back in his room to find him tucked into bed, or working on an assignment, or whatever has caught his attention. 

Nico will find himself thinking about his hands and his lips and his eyes and — it’s not just lust, he doesn’t think. Which is what spins this into something stronger, something that gets heavy in his chest and makes his heart feel just a little bigger. Somethings that plagues his mind just like that, quick enough that everything else is pushed away without second thought. 

There isn’t much to occupy his attention, but then it’s always Nolan. Always, always, always.

-

four;

“What do you think so far,” Nolan says, from his side of the room. He looks genuinely interested, his eyes focussed on Nico. There’s enough distance between them that he can’t dissect the situation much further than that. “Of Canada, I mean. What do you think?”

“It’s nice, I guess,” Nico offers, and Nolan doesn’t look particularly offended, just huffs out this little laugh that Nico has heard so many times. 

“ _I guess_ ,” Nolan repeats, shaking his head. “A little tough, huh?”

Nico’s smile is stretching his lips before he has very much to do about it. “I mean, it’s cool and stuff,” he says vaguely, and is probably the worst at trying to conceal the laugh that pours out right after. 

“Well,” Nolan starts, shrugging his shoulders, “you’ll have to take me to Switzerland someday. Show me the cooler stuff.” 

“Oh yeah,” Nico agrees. “It’s way cooler. You’re not gonna know what hit you, y’know.” He reaches for the pen near his pillow and scribbles something along the lines of an answer in his notebook, he’s just aiming for looking busy. “It’ll be weird for you, though. Not getting to be bored 24/7.”

“Oh, ha-ha,” Nolan says, rolling his eyes. It’s all fond, packed away with this soft smile that makes Nico feel warm underneath everything else.

-

five;

He never actually had a chance to prepare. Rather, Nolan came out of nowhere and Nico was left to try and keep his feelings all packaged up nice and neat. It didn’t work then and it isn’t working now, when Nolan’s deemed them close enough to be comfortable walking around the room shirtless. 

The thing is, Nico would be perfectly fine with this on any other day. Any other day when he could stick his nose in a textbook and brush every other distraction right off his shoulder, but this is early in the morning. This is while Nolan’s chatting him up about the stupid shit his buddy did while he’s sipping coffee and still very much shirtless. Nico thinks he could pull his eyes away, but it’s hard. 

Nolan isn’t watching his eyes. He isn’t watching Nico looking. And that makes staring a lot easier. It just makes tearing his gaze away a lot harder.

Like, it’s so easy to see that Nolan’s very easy on the eyes and, if the way his muscle flex is anything to go by, he hits the gym too. He’s this really attractive guy and he’s in Nico’s room and what the fuck kind of god would put him in a situation like this. 

He’s trying to be blasé, but he isn’t familiar enough with these parts of Nolan to roll with it that quickly. 

“There’s this new coffee place a few blocks away,” catches his attention just enough to pull him from everything else. It’s a blessing in disguise. “We should go. They’ve got these banger pastries and why would anyone give that up.” 

Nico wonders, somewhere in the back of his head, if the smile he puts on is anywhere near forced. But it comes on partly from flattery, it’s just hard to maintain when he’s got Nolan and his naked chest to face. 

“Yeah,” Nico says, trying for collected. “Yeah, we should.”

-

six;

Nico’s head is clouded with an expanse of smooth skin, fingertips that trail over the heartbeat in his throat, and lips bitten red against his. It’s that, and then it’s his fingers tangled in someone’s hair, broken breaths in his ear, and blue eyes that Nico thinks he could recognize anywhere.

He dreams about a lot of things, but it’s things like this that hit him like a brick to the face. It’s waking up with his chest heaving and the room spinning, waking up unsure of the feelings spiralling in his stomach, waking up hard and aching and _wanting_. 

It’s not like he can just take care of it. He isn’t sure if he’d ever be able to jerk off to the thought of Nolan and manage to look him in the eyes ever again. Or if he could even think about doing it while in the same room as him, regardless of being in the dark or not.

Nico’s got boundaries. And even if when he shuts his eyes, all he can see are images that make his heart shiver, he curls himself up in his blanket and waits. Just like always. Waiting. Falling asleep is still difficult.

-

seven;

It starts like any other night, except Nico’s in Nolan’s bed. He’s pressed into his side and seconds from falling asleep, bored out of his goddamn mind. Nolan is a warm line of heat all up his side and if Nico actually had the energy to, maybe he’d do something. That’s not a thought he’s particularly proud of, but it’s one that he has. 

Maybe Nolan picks up on it. Maybe it’s the vibes in the room, the way everything seems like it’s faded just a little further away from them. Like the walls have drifted and all they’re doing is floating in this haze, but he says, “we should do something.” 

“Like what,” Nico offers, because that’s the most he can allow himself to bring to the table without giving himself away. 

“Like,” he trails off, eyes tilted up towards the ceiling. “Shit, I don’t know.” 

“I think I’m just gonna stay here,” Nico says uselessly and then watched as Nolan almost immediately slips out from his side and sinks to the floor by the bed. Nolan reaches underneath it, and Nico’s barely processing it when he pulls a backpack out from underneath. 

It’s not the same one he takes to class and Nico would know, he’s up most of the mornings Nolan heads off. But this bag. He’s never seen it before.

Nolan unzips one of the smaller pockets and fumbles through it. All Nico can really hear is the rustle of fabric and then —

“Have you ever tried Adderall?” Nolan asks him, eyes sharp and focused when he looks up at Nico and Nico really has no idea how to answer that. He’s never even considered it before. 

The smile on Nolan’s face is full of promise and maybe just the slightest bit smug as he pulls a small bottle out of his bag, one that lets out the telltale sound of pills when he shakes it just a little. 

“I keep this for emergencies only,” he says. “You wanna?”

“I’ve never,” Nico says, unsure of how much more to say, but then Nolan’s back on the bed, right back next to him with his beautiful smile. He does — he wants to.

“We’ll be careful, don’t worry,” he assures him, the hand without the bottle landing on Nico’s leg. It’s a soft weight, nothing but warm pressure. “It’s just gonna give us a little dopamine kick, gonna make you feel nice and light.” 

Nico nods his head, focus zeroed in on Nolan’s hand when he unscrews the cap, his fingers on a small yellow pill, and then his red of his tongue as he sets it in his mouth. 

“C’mere,” Nolan murmurs after swallowing, and Nico parts his lips just for Nolan to set one on his tongue. It makes his cheeks burn. Especially with the way Nolan looks at him. The dark edges of his eyes chased by the fingers that settle underneath his chin.

Nico swallows. He opens his mouth. There’s no pill. 

“It’ll take a while,” Nolan tells him, “but we can wait.” 

Nico almost leans for his fingers as they drop from his face, but he’s more caught up in Nolan all in his space, his hands trailing down to Nico’s chest. 

“We can wait,” Nico says, and wraps his hand around Nolan’s wrist.

-

eight;

It takes around 35 minutes.

Nico doesn’t feel any different one moment and the next his head is just a little fuzzier. All the edges are rounded out, the room is brighter, and he can’t focus on anything but the hand on his leg. It isn’t his own hand. It isn’t, it’s —

“Yeah?” Nolan asks, when Nico looks at him with maybe a warped expression. He’s almost out of focus, because Nico is thinking of the hand, the warmth that bleeds into his skin from it. 

“I think it’s working,” Nico says, blinking at him. He smiles, almost against his own will, and feels butterflies in his chest when he gets one in return. 

“Feels right?”

Nico isn’t sure what _right_ is. Maybe popping pills isn’t right. Maybe giving in isn’t right. Maybe wanting to try Nolan isn’t right. But something about having that, and doing this, and letting himself want feels. Good. 

So, “yeah,” Nico breathes out, leaning in just to press his forehead to Nolan’s shoulder. He can breathe him in like that, he can get a good grip and refuse to let go and _have_ him. “I feel like I could run a a marathon. Or ten.” 

Nico’s listening to Nolan’s breathing, focus zeroed right in on it, and then it’s the fingers that brush through his hair that rip his attention right away. The soft little touches and strokes. He feels the little chuckle that leaves his lips more than he hears it. 

“I bet you could, buddy,” Nolan says. 

Nolan doesn’t shift even if Nico doesn’t stop leaning into his space, he lets him do what he wants, and something about having that freedom lights Nico’s stomach up with nerves. Or maybe it’s liquid confidence, this electric energy that pools into the bottom of his spine, pushing, pushing, pushing.

Nico’s so focused on Nolan and just Nolan that he doesn’t realize he’s moved his lips up to his jaw until Nolan brings a hand to his cheek, and Nico almost thinks he’s being pulled away. But then they’re forehead to forehead and Nolan asks, “this is what you want?”

Nico doesn’t think he stutters when he dips in, because it happens too quickly for there to be much hesitance. There’s a gap and Nico’s bridging it with his lips. Then it’s his hand on the back of Nolan’s head just to try and get in deeper. To take this further.

He can feel the buzzing in his lips all until Nolan pulls away, that’s when it turns to tingling. He smiles. Laughs. Nolan does, too. 

“I’ve wanted that for — you have no idea,” Nico blurts, leaning in to kiss him again, feeling the way Nolan’s thumb brushes his cheek. 

“I’ve wanted it even longer, I bet,” Nolan says. He’s still smiling, this curve in his lips that draws Nico in like a magnet. He just wants to kiss and kiss and kiss. “Here, I’ll,” Nolan doesn’t finish that, just shifts so he can straddle Nico’s legs, hovering just above his lap to press in again. To kiss him and let him feel it. 

Nico has to tilt his chin up to reach, but it feels good. He’ll make out with him like a fucking highschooler and relish in just that for now, with tight grips and fingernails and bruising bites that make his gut curl with want. 

Nico learns one thing: Nolan is happy to give.

-

nine;

Waking up in the morning feels like hitting a sugar crash. 

“Can you not,” Nico grumbles, folding the pillow over the back of his head. It’s a tiny twin sized bed — there’s really only one pillow and Nolan lightly shoves him for stealing it, still curled up in the sheets right next to him. 

“Ask nicely,” Nolan says.

“Turn the goddamn lights off,” Nico just barely gets out, muffled by the sheets. He doesn’t feel like moving, or speaking, but he reaches for the lamp anyways and Nolan catches his arm. 

He wants to be pissed. He feels like he should be pissed. But then there are lips trailing up his skin, light little kisses that go up and up and up to his shoulder. Nico exhales at the bite that lands there, and pulls Nolan in just a little closer. 

“You’re the _worst_ ,” Nico manages.

“You don’t really think that,” he says, smiling. Nico isn’t sure how he has the energy or even the ability to smile right now. “You’re just a grump.”

Nico grunts, but he doesn’t protest when Nolan finds his mouth and kisses the frustration away. 

-

ten;

When Nico kisses Nolan in the mornings, his lips taste like coffee or toothpaste, or if his timing is really bad, it’ll be a bitter kiss. Like right after his alarm rings, when he decides to kiss Nolan awake. 

Nico loves kissing him, he loves it when Nolan puts his hand on he small of his back, or when he lets Nico press him into the bed, or when they’re tangled up in the sheets and all Nico can think about is Nolan, Nolan, Nolan. 

It’s what he’s wanted for long enough that getting it feels a little surreal, and Nico can think back to the feeling of euphoria that passed through him the first time they kissed. The way colours seemed to glow all that much brighter when he was in his arms, when thinking didn’t seem to matter, when it was just them. And that’s how it feels all the time, in the morning, the afternoon, the nights. 

Nolan is all he needs. He’s enough.


End file.
